Wow.
“Truth or Dare is extremely dangerous,” I warn. “Also, I’m feverish and feeling a bit loopy, so I can’t be trusted with answering appropriately. Or asking appropriate questions, for that matter.”
“That’s why I suggested it,” he says slowly, almost growling. It shocks me. It turns me on.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Fine. Since you are the one who suggested it, you ask first.”
He smiles and watches me. Our hands are still connected, and I’m acutely aware of how close he is to me right now. We’re inches apart.
“Truth or dare?”
“Truth. I’ll almost always pick truth.”
“Good.” He leans in a few inches closer. “Evianna, what is your worst fear?”
I’m taken aback. I wasn’t expecting a serious answer right off the bat.
“Hmm…” I look away. “Probably losing someone close to me. Losing Elijah,” I say, and I know at once that I’m telling the truth.
“Your brother?”
“Yeah. He’s twelve.”
“I’d like to meet him one day,” Nick says. “Your whole family, actually. Bria and I could go over for dinner one night.”
“Um, sure,” I answer. “We do weekly dinners. You guys could come next week,” I suggest, and instantly I regret it. I’m not sure I can handle Nick Wilder in my childhood home. And my mother knows about us! Oh my god, what did I just agree to?
“We’ll be there,” he says smoothly, pulling his hand away from mine and leaning back with his arms behind his head. “Your turn.”
“Okay. Truth or dare?”
“Truth. Always.”
I smile.
“What is the one question that you do not want me to ask?”
He looks at me, confused. “That’s… that’s a very clever truth question, Ms. Halle.”
“I told you. I cannot be held accountable for my questions right now. So? Tell me.”
He adjusts himself so that he’s facing me fully. His smile has disappeared, and he looks at me seriously. The happy crinkles around his eyes have been replaced with deep furrows on his forehead, and he looks down as he answers.
“Are you ready?” he says, quietly.
“What?”
His eyes slide up to mine, and suddenly I see so much sorrow, so much grief.
“That’s the one question I don’t want you to ask. Are you ready.”
I look down, and I can’t believe I’m about to ask, but I do anyways.
“And what would your answer be?”
I keep my gaze downcast and close my eyes.
Please don’t say no. I already know my heart would break if he said no.
“I honestly don’t know,” he says, and my eyes fly up to his. They’re still sad and furrowed, but I see something else, too. As he looks at me, I know he’s telling me the truth. “But I have hope.” Hope. That’s what I see behind the grief. Hope.
With that, he gets up and walks over to the front door. I want to laugh. I want to cry. I want to run over and kiss him passionately, but I also want to walk over and hug him. I don’t do anything. He opens the door and looks back at me.
“Eat some soup. I’ll come check on you later tonight.”
Before I have a chance to respond, he’s gone.
Twentysix.
Nick
We crossed a line. We never said anything explicitly, but we crossed a boundary the day she was sick. I can tell—in the ways our hands brush briefly and her eyes fly up to mine, as if she was burned. In the way she stays away, even when I invite her to eat dinner. In the way she watches me when she thinks I can’t see her.
I’ve been away a lot, and I miss her.
But for now, I just have to concentrate on work and Bria. I can’t get distracted. It’s just hard not to be distracted when she shows up every morning, and every morning I feel like I should be kissing her good morning instead of waving and leaving.
And I’m starting to wonder if it’s too good to be true.
Maybe she’s a rebound.
Maybe I just need to have some casual fun.